Poet John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier

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The Prisoners Of Naples Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCCCBBADADEEEEEEFGC HCCIJKKLLLBBMMNNNNEO ELOEJJEEJDDDPPPQNREP NESSNNBBEEEEPPEPE

I HAVE been thinking of the victims boundA
In Naples dying for the lack of airB
And sunshine in their close damp cells of painC
Where hope is not and innocence in vainC
Appeals against the torture and the chainC
Unfortunates whose crime it was to shareB
Our common love of freedom and to dareB
In its behalf Rome's harlot triple crownedA
And her base pander the most hateful thingD
Who upon Christian or on Pagan groundA
Makes vile the old heroic name of kingD
O God most merciful Father just and kindE
Whom man hath bound let thy right hand unbindE
Or if thy purposes of good behindE
Their ills lie hidden let the sufferers findE
Strong consolations leave them not to doubtE
Thy providential care nor yet withoutE
The hope which all thy attributes inspireF
That not in vain the martyr's robe of fireG
Is worn nor the sad prisoner's fretting chainC
Since all who suffer for thy truth send forthH
Electrical with every throb of painC
Unquenchable sparks thy own baptismal rainC
Of fire and spirit over all the earthI
Making the dead in slavery live againJ
Let this great hope be with them as they lieK
Shut from the light the greenness and the skyK
From the cool waters and the pleasant breezeL
The smell of flowers and shade of summer treesL
Bound with the felon lepers whom diseaseL
And sins abhorred make loathsome let them shareB
Pellico's faith Foresti's strength to bearB
Years of unutterable torment stern and stillM
As the chained Titan victor through his willM
Comfort them with thy future let them seeN
The day dawn of Italian libertyN
For that with all good things is hid with TheeN
And perfect in thy thought awaits its time to beN
I who have spoken for freedom at the costE
Of some weak friendships or some paltry prizeO
Of name or place and more than I have lostE
Have gained in wider reach of sympathiesL
And free communion with the good and wiseO
May God forbid that I should ever boastE
Such easy self denial or repineJ
That the strong pulse of health no more is mineJ
That overworn at noonday I must yieldE
To other hands the gleaning of the fieldE
A tired on looker through the day's declineJ
For blest beyond deserving still and knowingD
That kindly Providence its care is showingD
In the withdrawal as in the bestowingD
Scarcely I dare for more or less to prayP
Beautiful yet for me this autumn dayP
Melts on its sunset hills and far awayP
For me the Ocean lifts its solemn psalmQ
To me the pine woods whisper and for meN
Yon river winding through its vales of calmR
By greenest banks with asters purple starredE
And gentian bloom and golden rod made gayP
Flows down in silent gladness to the seaN
Like a pure spirit to its great rewardE
Nor lack I friends long tried and near and dearS
Whose love is round me like this atmosphereS
Warm soft and golden For such gifts to meN
What shall I render O my God to theeN
Let me not dwell upon my lighter shareB
Of pain and ill that human life must bearB
Save me from selfish pining let my heartE
Drawn from itself in sympathy forgetE
The bitter longings of a vain regretE
The anguish of its own peculiar smartE
Remembering others as I have to dayP
In their great sorrows let me live alwayP
Not for myself alone but have a partE
Such as a frail and erring spirit mayP
In love which is of Thee and which indeed Thou artE

John Greenleaf Whittier



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